


Things We Lost in the Fire

by TheLittleMightyOne



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Heavy Angst, One Shot, Reunions, inspired by the song Things We Lost in the Fire by Bastille, kalen is an asshole yall, like he's the woooorst, magnus deserved better rip, writing things with a happy ending? i don't know her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 05:53:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11155599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleMightyOne/pseuds/TheLittleMightyOne
Summary: A few days ago, Lucretia called him into her office. Alone. She explained to him that she had received a letter from the Earth down below for him. The last time Magnus saw the Director this worried and distraught was when she sent them to Wonderland. Davenport, looking just as solemn, entered with an envelope on a silver plate.Lucretia folded her hands on her desk and closed her eyes. Magnus’ heart started slamming in his chest as all color drained from his skin. With trembling hands, he flipped the envelope over and saw a wax seal with a very large and elaborate K printed on it. He choked.“We already opened it.” Lucretia’s tone was cool. Calm. Void of any emotion. “He wants to… reunite.”





	Things We Lost in the Fire

Nobody had dared to touch the ruins of Raven’s Roost in years. Not even the young adventurers--unaware yet of the cruelty of this unforgiving world--ventured to its remains anymore. Mothers claimed the ashes ripped holes in children’s lungs. Fathers swore the man still  lurked with more explosives. Children attempted to scare each other with ghost stories of the Mad Governor Kalen and his descent into madness..

Each time the tale was recited, Kalen became more and more _monsterly_ . He was was a halfling, then he became a dark elf. Then, he was a tiefling; an orc; a giant. Soon, he became a beast. A spawn from the darkest corners of the Shadowfell. The embodiment of evil itself. Legend has it that even the most vile of the Gods wouldn’t--- _couldn’t_ \---speak his name.

But he was just a man. Just a simple human being.

And the folk hero, Magnus Burnsides, could attest to that.

The two men stood just under ten steps away from each other. Magnus keeps his face stern, chin up. His warm, brown eyes meets Kalen’s piercing green ones. The two stand there, completely motionless, until finally Kalen spoke.

“Good to see you again, Magnus."

His very voice sent waves of hatred down the fighter’s spine. How dare he pretend they were anything less than mortal enemies. How dare he act so nonchalant in front of the man he took _everything_ from.

Magnus fishes in his pocket for the crumpled scrap of parchment. “I got your letter.”

He doesn’t know how the letter even reached the Bureau, if he were to be honest. A few days ago, Lucretia called him into her office. Alone. She explained to him that she had received a letter from the Earth down below for him. The last time Magnus saw the Director this worried and distraught was when she sent them to Wonderland. Davenport, looking just as solemn, entered with an envelope on a silver plate. Magnus grabbed it tentatively, and read his name written on the front of it in blue ink.

It took a moment for his memories of Raven’s Roost to resurface---his mind had repressed them so far down. Even still, it didn’t take very long for him to recognize the handwriting. Once he did, he felt his lungs completely seize.

Lucretia folded her hands on her desk and closed her eyes. Magnus’ heart started slamming in his chest as all color drained from his skin. With trembling hands, he flipped the envelope over and saw a wax seal with a very large and elaborate K printed on it. He choked.

“We already opened it.” Lucretia’s tone was cool. Calm. Void of any emotion. “He wants to… _reunite._ ”

Magnus blinked. Tears rolled down his cheeks. Any discomfort he would have felt over the invasion of his privacy was completely swallowed by shock. Lucretia waited patiently for his reply. The fighter licked his lips--his mouth as dry as sandpaper--and barely uttered, “Wh-why.”

“He says he has things he’d like to discuss with you.”

Magnus’ hands were numb. He blinked away more tears. He opened the envelope and read for himself. The ex-governor Kalen would like to reunite with the very man who overthrew him in the first place.

“I have to advise against this.” Lucretia leaned forward on her desk, any effort to hide her emotion completely sacked, “Magnus, please. Gods _know_ what the hell he has planned for you! He could… He could _kill_ you. Please.”

He slowly looked up from the letter. He crumpled it in his hands. “I’m going.” He whispered.

“Magnus--”

A little louder, “I have to, Lucretia. I have to.” 

And so there he was. Standing just a few steps away from the man who ripped his wife, his mentor, his very _life_ from him. It took everything Magnus had in him not to run to the man and snap his neck right there.  

The ex-governor took one look at the wrinkled paper and raised his brows at the man in front of him, “Oh, I’m hurt. Do you know how much it cost to send that to you? I even scribed it on the _fancy_ paper. I didn’t think you deserved anything less.”

“Would you cut the horse shit?” It wasn’t a question. Magnus took a few steps forward, “What do you want?” 

“No, no I want to talk about how you just crumpled my letter!” Kalen raised a hand to gesture at it, “Do you know how long it took to write it? I’m no good at calligraphy, well, nowhere near as good as---”

 “Don’t you dare.” The tank quickens his pace, “Don’t you _dare_ say her---”

 His sly, malicious grin only grows. “Nowhere near as good as your honey _Julia_ was-HRG--”

 Magnus grabs the governor’s collar and hoists him into air just inches from his face. Through gritted teeth, he screamed, “Don’t you _DARE_ speak her name, don’t you _DARE_.”

Kalen laughs. His breath reeks of whiskey and terrible hygiene. Magnus bares his teeth as he tightens his grip on his collar. Kalen’s laugh morphs into a forced wheeze as Magnus increases the pressure on his throat.

 “Alright---HHHRG---ALRIGHT!” The grey haired man protests, “Put me down, ya thug.”

Magnus releases him. Kalen lands on his knees with a _thud_ and coughed.

The tank feels no pity. If his curiosity didn’t outweigh his rage, Kalen would have been dead by now. “Sit down, Magnus, sit down,” The governor patted the grass next to him, “I just want to talk. Catch up. It _has_ been five or six years now.”

The tank’s face remained stoic as he lowered himself onto the grass. Kalen smirks.

Magnus only frowns in response.

The elder man’s face suddenly lights up, ““Ah! Before I begin, I have a little something for you.” The ex-governor fishes around in his satchel and pulls out a silver finished flask. He unscrews the top before extending it to Magnus.

He eyes the flask. Lucretia’s warnings echo in his brain. He looks up at Kalen and squints.

“What? It’s aged bourbon. Straight from Glamor Springs. I’ve done a bit of traveling since, y’know...” The governor shrugs while making vague gestures with his open hand. He raises his brows at his companion, urging Magnus to take a sip.

“No thanks.”

Kalen shrugs. “Should’a known. You were always a whiskey kinda guy.”

Magnus watches Kalen like a hawk as he brings the silver flask up to chapped lips and tilts his head back. The fighter sighs and turns his head back to face the ruins of his home, trying to ignore  Kalen’s stare. He tenses his shoulders when he hears spitting and sputtering coming from the man next to him, and as he turns he sees Kalen hunched over, spitting every drop of bourbon from his mouth onto the grass below.

“You were always a smart cookie, Magnus.” He chuckles as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “I was hopin’ to get out this conversation. Do you know how stupid easy it is to get arsenic these days? Ha, I just told the guy I had _rats_ . Whadd’a _moron_.”

The realization of Kalen’s intentions dawns on Magnus. Fury bubbles in his chest as he clenches his fist so hard his knuckles turned a ghastly white. He keeps his gaze steady on the charred remains in the distance, refusing to even look at the man anymore. If their eyes met, Magnus was sure he’d kill the man.  

“What do you even _want?_ ” Magnus hisses, “To torture me? To bring me back here and-and kill me? To finish what you started?”

“Ha, I can see how you’d think that. I definitely can see that.” Kalen sighs, “Guess I’ll just get to the point. I invited you here to say I’m sorry.”

Magnus’s eyes widen in shock.

“Yup, you heard me, Burnsides. I’m sorry.”

His brows lower, gaze still steady on the ashes of Raven’s Roost. “I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to.” Kalen sighs, “Just thought I would tell’ya.”

The two men sit in silence. Kalen licks his lips. Magnus’ gaze is unwavering. The trees behind them rustle in the breeze.  

“There’s a quote I stumbled upon in my travels.” Kalen breaks the silence, “It’s real interesting. ‘ _We were born with nothing and we sure as hell have nothing now.’_ What a way to put it!”

A war was raging inside Magnus Burnsides. His curiosity tells him to wait, to hold on; there could be some vital information he was holding back. His rage tells him to stop waiting; if Kalen did offer anything, it wasn’t worth it to sit here and listen to him.

“‘Cus you know...”

With every word spoken, the rage within him only grows. His voice only brings back more and more memories, each more painful than the last. Of his home, of his life… Of his Ju---

“ _We don’t have anything left._ ”

Magnus’ fist meets with Kalen’s nose in an instant.

Kalen’s words were the breaking point; the final shove to push him over the edge. Curiosity be _DAMNED,_ his wife’s fucking _MURDERER_ was sitting on a silver platter in front of him. He’d be a damn _FOOL_ if he showed him the slightest shred of mercy.

Magnus rolls on his side to face Kalen, his nose badly crooked as crimson blood gushes from his nostrils, grabs his shirt, and punches him again. Magnus lands blow after blow on the man’s face while screaming.

“ _YOU! TOOK! EVERYTHING FROM ME!”_

Any restraint or self control Magnus had was smothered by his blind rage. Kalen didn’t deserve the breath in his lungs or the sun on his skin. He didn’t deserve _mercy_. Not after what he did to Raven’s Roost. Not after what he did to Julia.

“AND YOU’RE WRONG, KALEN, YOU’RE _WRONG_ ... I do have something.” Magnus pulls the man close to his face, so close that Magnus could smell the blood dribbling on his face, “I have LOVE. That’s the _one thing_ you didn’t take from me. That’s the one thing _nobody_ can take from me. I don’t know what happened in your sick, twisted existence that made you unable to love anyone or anything--but I don’t care.”

Magnus throws Kalen to side and stands up, hand reaching for the battle axe on his back. “I don’t care.”

The man on the grass rolls over and leans on his elbows, facing Magnus. He looks the tank in the eyes. And he _laughs_.

“Ha! You finally caught on, didn’t’cha? I knew ya would, I just had’ta keep going!”

Magnus furrows his brow in confusion. Kalen takes note of his distraction and kicks the fighter straight in the kneecap, grinning wildly at the CRACK the bone makes. Magnus hollers in pain and falls to the ground while Kalen wipes his nose with the back of his arm and stands up.

He takes out a dagger he had hidden in his boot. He waves it, eyeing the shimmer of the metal against the setting sun. Magnus looks up from his knee.

“You seemed a little confused there, so let me clue you in!” Kalen chuckles, his eyes wild and his grin the very picture of pure madness. Magnus’ heart beats in his chest, pumping adrenaline through his veins. The governor points the dagger at Magnus’ head, “Neither of us are going to make it out of this meeting ALIVE! I MEAN, DID YOU ACTUALLY BELIEVE I WAS SORRY?! THAT WAS JUST A ROUSE, OL’ BOY! TO LET YOUR GUARD DOWN!”

In this moment, Kalen becomes the very embodiment of evil the story tellers made him out to be. A creature so disgusting, so vile, so inherently evil that not even the gods above could speak his name.

“That’s the _PROBLEM_ with you ‘Freedom Fighters’, you’re so _OBSESSED_ with justice! I told you I was _sorry_ for blowing up the town and, for whatever _reason,_ you BELIEVED me! And you let your guard down for just a _second_ to go on some rant about _love_ and _waah I have FEELINGS_ ! HA! How _pathetic._ ”

Magnus is afraid. He’s afraid because Kalen is _right_. Somewhere, deep in his soul, he believed him. He believed he was sorry. And this belief kept him from taking Kalen’s life when he had the chance. Because deep down, Magnus _wanted_ him to be sorry. Some nights when the nightmares were too great and the memories were too strong to let him rest, Magnus would rack his brain trying to come up with ananswer as to what kind of a monster Kalen was. On some level, Magnus  _wanted_ him to be sorry. To have some inkling of remorse.  

But Magnus was wrong--oh _gods_ was he wrong. Kalen played him. Kalen played him for damn fool he was. 

This fear was paralyzing. Magnus was a fighter, a protector; the one who always rushes in and defends the ones in peril. What beautiful irony it was that the one life he could not save was his own.

The mad governor raises the knife over his head.

“Tell _Julia_ I said---”

Magnus blinks. In this moment, a the sound of a crossbow firing and an arrow whizzing echoes in his ears. He looks at Kalen, and sees a giant arrow has struck Kalen’s head and pierced through his skull.

The governor collapses in front of him, soaking the grass around him in a pool of his own blood and chunks of brain matter.

Footsteps approach.

“Oh my God, Magnus, are you ok?”

Carey slides on her knees to the fighter and immediately places a hand on his shoulder. Killian stops in front of Kalen, eyes over the dead body, and spits on it.

“Magnus…?"  
  
The fighter begins to bawl.

“Oh, Magnus…”

The tears don’t stop flowing. His eyes are clenched shut but somehow the tears do not stop falling down his cheeks. He clenches his mouth with his hand to keep him from screaming as he pulls on his hair with the other. His eyes don’t move from Kalen’s dead body lying in front of him.  

“Com’ere big guy.” Carey wraps her tiny arms around Magnus’ shoulder while Killian sits down next to him and holds his head in her chest, trying to shield him from the carnage. “Shh, shh… It’s over now, Mags.”

Magnus allows himself to be held and lets out a loud, enraged sob.

“It’s all over.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is why we can't have nice things.
> 
> ~Follow thelittlemightywriter on tumblr for updates, Q&A's, playlists, and more!~


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